


The Face of Deception

by ThroughtheMirrorDarkly



Category: General Hospital, Shall We Date?: Guard Me Sherlock!+, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Crimes & Criminals, Drama, F/M, Gen, Intrigue, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Politics, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-15 04:37:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14783709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThroughtheMirrorDarkly/pseuds/ThroughtheMirrorDarkly
Summary: AU History: In a world where the reins of Deception were in Brenda Barrett’s and Jasper Jax’s hands, Elizabeth Webber was given a choice. A life free of those that would mold her into a fragile doll, and where she was able to flourish and grow into someone she wanted to be. She left Port Charles, and never looked back, until the end of her contract nears and Brenda wants her to do once last event. Old faces, old problems threaten to tear Elizabeth down from the life that she has built, but it is the surprising offer from Mycroft Holmes that could be her salvation or damnation.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing from General Hospital which belongs to ABC and it’s respective owners. I do not own Sherlock BBC, which belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and it’s respective owners. I don’t own “Guard Me, Sherlock”. That belongs to it’s respective owners. Hercule Poirot is a creation of Agatha Christy, and not mine! This is only for pure amusement and imagination, and to hone my writing skills.  
> Pairings: Mycroft/Elizabeth, mentions of Liason and Lucky/Liz  
> Warnings: Will have a bit of violence, and bit of steamy smexy times, but nothing too explicit. If you want the explicit version you need to go to my AO3 account and read the one on there. Carly, Sonny, Courtney, Lucky and the Spencers hoard will not be likeable so if you like them then you need jump ship. Sam is a non-entity at this point and honestly, I doubt she will even make it into the story. LiRic (Elizabeth and Ric) never happened. Anything else will be made clear throughout the story so please enjoy.  
> DIFFERENCE IN GH CANNON: Carly had already pushed Jason at Courtney while Lucky was forcing Liz to play model for his mom while he played photographer, so Elizabeth didn’t have Jason telling her the hard truths because he was wrapped up in the mess of Courtney/AJ thing.  
> Inspired by the “Guard Me, Sherlock” Game. It is an app available on all Android devices. Great game, I love it though waiting for tickets and such is a bit of a pain. Some dialogue and a little bit of the story plots from the game will be worked into the fanfiction, but have a GH twist and spin on certain things.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU History: In a world where the reins of Deception were in Brenda Barrett’s and Jasper Jax’s hands, Elizabeth Webber was given a choice. A life free of those that would mold her into a fragile doll, and where she was able to flourish and grow into someone she wanted to be. She left Port Charles, and never looked back, until the end of her contract nears and Brenda wants her to do once last event. Old faces, old problems threaten to tear Elizabeth down from the life that she has built, but it is the surprising offer from Mycroft Holmes that could be her salvation or damnation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing from General Hospital which belongs to ABC and it’s respective owners. I do not own Sherlock BBC, which belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and it’s respective owners. I don’t own “Guard Me, Sherlock”. That belongs to it’s respective owners. Hercule Poirot is a creation of Agatha Christy, and not mine! This is only for pure amusement and imagination, and to hone my writing skills.  
> Pairings: Mycroft/Elizabeth, mentions of Liason and Lucky/Liz  
> Warnings: Will have a bit of violence, and bit of steamy smexy times, but nothing too explicit. If you want the explicit version you need to go to my AO3 account and read the one on there. Carly, Sonny, Courtney, Lucky and the Spencers hoard will not be likeable so if you like them then you need jump ship. Sam is a non-entity at this point and honestly, I doubt she will even make it into the story. LiRic (Elizabeth and Ric) never happened. Anything else will be made clear throughout the story so please enjoy.  
> DIFFERENCE IN GH CANNON: Carly had already pushed Jason at Courtney while Lucky was forcing Liz to play model for his mom while he played photographer, so Elizabeth didn’t have Jason telling her the hard truths because he was wrapped up in the mess of Courtney/AJ thing.  
> Inspired by the “Guard Me, Sherlock” Game. It is an app available on all Android devices. Great game, I love it though waiting for tickets and such is a bit of a pain. Some dialogue and a little bit of the story plots from the game will be worked into the fanfiction, but have a GH twist and spin on certain things.

* * *

THE FACE OF DECEPTION 

By ThroughtheMirrorDarkly

* * *

Chapter One 

“The Return”

Elizabeth Webber’s face was on billboards all around the world from New York to California all the way across the ocean to Japan and the Netherlands, and much more. Regardless of what the pictures advertise, the Face of Deception was instantly recognizable and sought after which is why it was such a relief that her contract was finally coming to an end. Brenda and Jax, as amazing as they had been, had known Elizabeth wasn’t going to make her entire life as model, nor did she want to. The only reason she had agreed was for the freedom that came with it. 

Of course, the original deal penned by Laura Spencer and Carly Corinthos had been more of selling of the soul than freedom, but as scandals happened, it came out that Laura really hadn’t gotten control of the company through the proper channels. Documents or what not had been falsified and while the blond had sought to remedy that as quickly as possible, it had been all for naught because Jasper Jax had been more swift. Never one to squander an opportunity, the Australian “stole the company” and with his new wife Brenda—which infuriated both Sonny and Carly for very different reasons—had taken over quickly. They breathed new life into the dying company in a way that Laura and Carly had been incapable of doing. Carly had been short sightedness when it came to the potential that Elizabeth was, because she would always hate Elizabeth for ruining her chances with Jason though that was far from true. Carly had done that all on her own. Laura had the inability to treat Elizabeth as an individual without Lucky attached to her, and while Elizabeth was a talented model, Lucky’s photography was subpar at best. 

After the great upset, Laura decided to ask for a loan from the Quartermaine’s to start her own company. It didn’t work out. So after that, Lucky decided photography wasn’t for him and the Spencer expected Elizabeth to follow. And that was the make or break moment for Elizabeth. She didn’t want to be a model, even if she was good at it. It wasn’t something that fulfilled her at the end of the day. Not in the way that painting did. But after months of telling Laura and Lucky she hadn’t been comfortable and hadn’t felt right with the modeling, they only decided to drop it all when they couldn’t get anything out of it any longer and expected Elizabeth to just follow them like a dog on the leash. 

It had been a cold, harsh slap to the face that made her wake up to reality. 

If she continued to be a doormat, that’s all she would ever be treated like. She would only be a lapdog, only good for doing what she was told, and was expected to have no needs or wants of her own. She was meant to cater to Lucky and his life, and Elizabeth just wondered how she became so desperate to be loved and belong that she nearly lost herself in the process? So Elizabeth went to Brenda and Jax, told them her feelings and they had _listened_. Two people that really and truly listened to her, and she had forgotten how nice that was to have someone willing to be in her corner. Jason Morgan, her former friend, had once been that person, but he was too wrapped in the messy divorce of AJ and Courtney at the time. She hadn’t known what truth there was to Jason having an affair with Courtney, and hadn’t wanted to. There had…been something between her and Jason, and to think of him with someone else—back then, not now—had been difficult. Maybe it was hypocritically considering she had been with Lucky, but when were feelings ever easy to make out? 

The Spencers had been wroth with anger. They considered what Elizabeth was doing as a betrayal, and Elizabeth realized how wrong she had been about them. A real, supportive family would have been happy, despite the circumstances. It showed her how little in the grand scheme of things that Elizabeth had meant to them, and they hadn’t talked since the big blow out at the Nurses Ball back in 2001. Emily—Elizabeth’ former best friend—had chosen a side so quickly, without even bothering to hear Elizabeth out that it still left Elizabeth reeling to this day when she thought about it. Nicolas had remained neutral for Laura’s sake, but it was clear he disapproved of the Spencer Clan’s actions. If only he felt strong enough friendship for Elizabeth to actually to have her back. She had kept in touch with Nicolas for a couple of years, but steadily the phone calls and letters grew fewer and fewer until contact ceased all together. 

Audrey, her grandmother, had been certain that Elizabeth would fail. She had went on and on about how much of a mistake Elizabeth was making leaving a sure thing like Lucky behind for a wild dream—never mind the fact, Audrey had been so supportive when it had been Lucky’s dream. After Elizabeth had left, Audrey had moved to California to be taken care of by Sarah, Elizabeth’s older sister, because her health started to fail. No matter how many times Elizabeth reached out, Audrey had never wanted to speak to her. All she got was a mockingly regretful Sarah told her that Audrey refused to even hear her voice over the telephone, and threw out the letters and gifts Elizabeth sent. It had been the one regret that lingered with Elizabeth. 

She hadn’t even got to go to the funeral because she had been told to stay away by her mother and Sarah. 

Elizabeth drew in a deep breath, the warm summer air wafted off the chopping waters and she pulled herself out of memory lane, harshly. She didn’t have time to muse on the past when her future was what was important. She looked around the pier and at the faded red number ‘51’ on the side of the building, and couldn’t believe that it had been nearly seven years since she had been in Port Charles. Every familiar corner brought up memories leaving her nostalgic, but she couldn’t deny the wariness that tapped along her spine like cold fingers. She knew that with familiar corners there would no doubt be familiar faces, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to face them at all. Why should she? Her past didn’t and shouldn’t define her now. 

But that wasn’t her biggest issue right now. Her big issue was the well-meaning friend Epiphany Johnson. Epiphany was a dark skinned goddess and plus sized fashion designer who didn’t take shit from the industry or anyone, defying the set rules of what “beauty” had been deemed by society and rewriting the book on modeling. She also had an unhealthy obsession with meddling in her friends’ love lives. (Or in Elizabeth’s case, lack thereof.) “ _Sex is good for you Elizabeth. It release endorphins in the brain that make you happy and reduces stress. Every healthy hot blooded woman should have some mind blowing, curl your toes, make you forget your name kind of sex at some point in their life. Don’t worry, honey, I’ll find you just the man that will be sure to satisfy_ ,” Epiphany had told Elizabeth, on one of their girl’s nights out. 

Elizabeth hadn’t thought anything of it, until she was informed by Epiphany through text message that she had been set up on a blind date. Her! On a blind date! God only knew the last time she had been on a date. Dating hadn’t really been in her plans, nor did she have the time to have a steady relationship. She didn’t do one night stands. After the almost one night stand with Zander which had been more awkward and embarrassing than anything else, Elizabeth had sworn off flings forever. She just couldn’t do it, she couldn’t have sex with no emotions attached to it. 

She knew that Epiphany meant well, but romance just never came easy to her. Add into the fact that she knew nothing about the man whom she had been set up to meet, and needless to say that Elizabeth was a nervous wreck. This was supposed to be her down time, damnit! She didn’t have to worry about shoes that didn’t fit, slipping on the catwalk, whether or not she was photogenic today, or the acting career that people speculated that she would soon have after a few guest roles on shows like Once Upon a Time, Supernatural and Arrow. She played Irene Alder an investigator on the mystery show, _Mid-Fall Murders_. It was a mini-series and despite its popularity, it did not get picked up for a third season. Not to mention the people bothering her about her short stint as a guest star on _Days of Our Lives_ who wanted her role become permanent and her to be paired with Greg Vaughn’s character Eric. Her character’s name had been Evelyn, and the shipper name for them was Ever, and don’t forget the hashtag on twitter. 

That dream would sadly not be because once her contract was up by the months end, she would never step foot in front of the spotlight ever again. She intended to live a life so notoriously boring that the legit paparazzi would leave her alone and only the occasional trash magazine would photoshop her images in an unflattering light and accuse of some kind of nonsense. She hoped it had something to do with aliens; those were the ones that made her laugh the most. But back to the matter at hand, she shouldn’t be so twisted up into knots over this, right? What could go wrong on a blind date? 

Oh, hell, why did she have to put that thought into the universe? Now everything that could go wrong would. 

“Elizabeth?” A voice came from behind her, and even though it had been so many years, she could still recognize the whiny and snotty tone that was Lucky Spencer’s natural way of speaking. At least, the Lucky after his great return, the boy before had been soft spoken and so different than what came home. 

_See!_ She sent a petulant look into the sky before she drew in a breath to steel her resolve, and plastered a big fake smile on her face before she turned to face Lucky. He wasn’t alone, though his company wasn’t someone that Elizabeth frankly liked and didn’t make her any less annoyed. It was Gia Taggert, the dark skinned beauty had been in the running for the Face of Deception and had a good shot at it until she had been caught with drugs in her purse. Apparently the rigorous routine that Laura had demanded had been too much for the younger woman and she needed something to give her a boost to manage to survive. Her brother had been disappointed and got her into a rehab program right away. 

_She looks good and healthy_ , Elizabeth noted. That was good. While there was no love lost between the two of them, she would never wish for anyone to fall prey to addiction. She was glad that the young woman had gotten sober, and seemed to be staying that way. But seeing so many young women fall into the same lure that Gia had over her years as a model, she could see the signs of Gia’s past written in her skin and face. Drugs left a mark on the body and soul—sometimes, it barely shows like in Gia’s case, and other times it was unmistakable. “Gia, Lucky. This is a surprise,” Elizabeth greeted, neutrally. 

“Yeah,” Gia drawled out, her eyes narrowed. Her dark eyes were slightly accusing as they swept over Elizabeth’s body—from her designer shoes to expensive coat—almost like she was saying, _That should have been mine_. “This really is a surprise. What on earth could you be doing back in Port Charles? Shouldn’t you be somewhere…I don’t know doing a coffee commercial?” 

It was a slight jab, but Elizabeth had heard worse and from much better. “Brenda wanted me to do one last charity event here at the MetroCourt. Port Charles is where I got my start, and it’s where everything should come to an end,” divulged Elizabeth, with a polite tone. She wanted to make it clear she wasn’t back here to pick up her old life, but merely out of obligation to Brenda. She didn’t want to give anyone a leg to stand or allow for rumors to have any merit, though she knew that would hardly stop them from flourishing. Those who loved rumors, hated a peaceful life and Port Charles was anything, but peaceful. 

“An end?” Lucky blinked. He had looked over Elizabeth with a look that she hadn’t liked at all. In fact, it had made her skin crawl. It was like a dog salivating after a piece of meat hanging in a butcher’s shop. “What do you mean an end? I thought you were so successful.” 

Elizabeth allowed the scorn in his voice go unanswered. “Modeling was never a forever thing for me. It wasn’t what I originally wanted to do,” she replied, easily. It hadn’t been what she wanted, but it had helped her gain connections in the world of modeling and art. She intended to open her own gallery. Her own artwork—what few pieces she had managed to paint during her busy schedules—were in a gallery already, and a few pieces had sold, earning money for charity. She wanted to create art in painting, photography and work with others to cultivate up and coming artists. This was her dream. 

Gia snorted. “Do you have any idea what some people would do for your kind of life? And you are just throwing it away. No wonder Audrey was so disappointed in you. You squander every opportunity you are ever given,” the other woman said, nastily. 

Elizabeth supposed it was too much to hope that things would stay civil. “Is that supposed to hurt me? Make me angry or upset?” She questioned, her tone carefully light. She saw a flash of surprise on the other woman’s face. She was used to the hot tempered girl that had a cutting thing to say to anyone who tried to hurt her, but she had outgrown that a long time. She had learned to patient and calculating to deal with pettiness and ugliness. “You don’t know me, Gia. You don’t know my life. You didn’t even know me back all those years ago. Tell me, why would I value or need the opinion of a person who doesn’t know me or doesn’t matters to me?” 

“Elizabeth, you have no right to talk to Gia that way,” Lucky defended, glaring at her. 

“You are right. I have no reason to treat Gia with the politeness that she decided that I just wasn’t worth, but I am a bigger person and the high road has the best view,” Elizabeth smiled, thinly. She wasn’t in Port Charles to play nice or make friends. She would give as good as she got, and if someone had a problem with that then tough shit. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to check on my reservations at the hotel.” 

A blatant lie, but she’d use any excuse to get away from the pair. She went to walk away when Lucky caught her by the elbow, and held her back. A sensation rippled across her body—revulsion and anger at him daring to touch her—and it took every fiber of her being not to knock him on his ass. “What are you doing?” She demanded, jerking her arm free of his grasp. “You don’t just grab people like that.” 

He had the decency to look a little bit ashamed, but he straightened his spine. “I just wanted to ask you before you ran away if you wanted to have lunch,” said Lucky, with what he thought was a suave and charming smile. “Since you’re back in town and finally free from being under Jax’s thumb, I figured perhaps you’d like to go out on a date.” 

Elizabeth just stared at him, and wondered what fresh hell she just stepped into. Was he serious, right now? Seven years and they hadn’t spoken. The conversation they just hadn’t been exactly nice. It had been cool and distant and despite all of that, Lucky had the gall to hit on her? Her eyes narrowed into slits, and she stared hard at Lucky. He hadn’t grown up at all. He may have physically aged, but she could see by the look in his eyes that he was still the same angry boy that was dangerously possessive, and wanted the world to give him what he thought he deserved. And Lucky had always believed Elizabeth belonged to him. That stupid permanent lock. 

“Are you serious right now?” Gia snarled. “You are asking her on a date right in front of me?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” Lucky gave her a clueless look. 

Elizabeth looked between the two, and then slowly turned around while the pair bickered, hastily making her escape. Yeah, that was something that she just did not need to get into the middle of. She didn’t know exactly what kind of relationship was going on—Gia thought it was exclusive, and Lucky apparently thought otherwise—but just no. She wouldn’t take Lucky back in a million years, even if Gia hadn’t been in the picture. He wasn’t the boy she used to know, and she wasn’t the girl that needed help out of the snow. She had outgrown that relationship, and while she valued the pre “resurrection” time she had with the original Lucky, she couldn’t stand the person that he had become. 

But she didn’t think that would stop Lucky from making things complicated for her. 

God, help her. 

* * *

Elizabeth had disappeared out of sight, like the unwanted ghost that she was. Lucky and Gia walked away from the pier, their shouts echoing all around them and no doubt the police would be called for some kind of domestic dispute. But if one thought the docks were abandoned then they would be completely wrong. Someone else was there, lingering in the shadow and had watched the entire scene with wrath filled eyes. _This simply would not do_ , the person thought, nearly foaming at the mouth with anger. Of all the people to stroll back into this town, it had to be her. Rage and bitterness cut through the watcher’s cut like a white hot knife. Hands clenched at their side, they decided then and there that they would do anything and everything to get Elizabeth Webber out of Port Charles. 

* * *

She had made it back to her hotel without another encounter, thankfully. She had taken a long luxurious bubble bath, allowing the tension to be soaked away before she dressed in her fluffy robe, ordered dinner and was now sipping on a glass of wine—she wished she had tequila, and some limes to be perfectly honest—while speaking to Brenda. Brenda was supposed to get a vacation, but there was a huge undertaking of setting up the “Face of Deception” contest as well as handling negotiations with a new company interested in investing in Deception, so she couldn’t leave Paris right now. Epiphany would be there in a week or so, because she was catering the charity event, but still that left Elizabeth alone with what felt like vultures form her past. And God help her, she could feel them circling around overhead. 

She couldn’t wait to leave Port Charles, and this time to leave it in her rearview mirror permanently. 

_“You do know if you tell Epiphany no, she won’t be mad,”_ Brenda stated, her voice crackling over the speaker phone breaking the silence of her hotel room. _“Canceling a blind date is hardly the end of the world.”_

Brenda and Epiphany were the only ones that could push Elizabeth out of her comfort zone, and when Elizabeth gave a firm “no”, they never made her feel bad about it. They respected her and her decisions, even if they tried her to get her to broad her horizons and try new things. Sometimes, Elizabeth wondered if they had a board filled with ideas, and just threw darts at it to choose what idea they would next bring to Elizabeth. Seemed like the dart landed on “blind dates” this go around, and if there was anything that could make her feel more anxiety than a blind date, Elizabeth had yet to find it. 

“I can handle it. I just want to make sure my blind date doesn’t turn out to be a nightmare waiting to happen. You sure this detective guy would be willing to help, Brenda?” Elizabeth asked, hesitantly. 

_“Of course, he will be!”_ Brenda reassured her, her tone very positive with a slight coy undertone. _“I mean, if I had a choice I would really get Hercule Poirot to take your case, but he is busy on a case in London right now. There have been these horrible murders going on. The media has dubbed them the ABC Murders.”_

“Yeah, I heard about that,” Elizabeth shuddered, remember the pictures that had been splashed all over the new. “You said you would have chosen Hercule over Sherlock? Is it because he is the better detective?” 

_“Hmm. I would say they are pretty on par with each other. Similar yet differing methods of how they solve cases, but at the end, I would choose Hercule merely because he has a more…mellow personality. Sherlock can be a bit…abrasive at times even though he means well,” _Brenda replied, thoughtfully. _“Also there are lines that Sherlock is willing to cross where Hercule is far more reserved when it comes to a case. If your blind date turns out to be a dud, you might need someone to cross a few lines. Although I reiterate that I don’t think Epiphany would set you up with someone who is a complete psychopath.”_ __

____

__

“So an incomplete one would be just fine?” Elizabeth sassed. 

__“We all have our flaws,”_ Brenda chuckled, mildly. _

Elizabeth was about to speak again when she heard a noise like a door opening on Brenda’s end of the phone, and she heard a muffled voice in the distance speak. _“It’s alright. I don’t mind it being this late. I am just glad we have finally gotten time off together after all the craziness. You can leave the spaghetti sauce, noodles and wine out by the stove, Jax. Once I’m off the phone with Elizabeth, I intend to start dinner,”_ Brenda addressed her husband, with soft adoration in her tone. 

It was almost sickeningly sweet how Brenda and Jax, even after all these years were still gooey-eyed over each other. Without Sonny or anyone else bringing in drama, the two were able to establish their relationship on a firm steady foundation and it flourished into something damn near unstoppable. The two had taken over the fashion world by storm, and had been a Cinderella sensation that made people love and hate them. And Brenda learned how to cook! Like actually cook, not burn things! Elizabeth had been shocked, too, when she learned the other woman had taken lessons and they actually worked. 

_“Anyways, Elizabeth, don’t worry about your blind date. Sherlock can be a bit of a git at times, but I do believe he will take your case. He will, at least, hear you out and the worst he could say is no. I’ll get you a meeting set up with Sherlock, okay? I will text you the time and place when I know where he wants to have the meeting,”_ Brenda said, her tone soft and reassuring. She normally was sassy and self-confident with everyone, but only a few got to see her softer side. 

“Alright,” Elizabeth sighed, her nails rapped against the table top where her half-finished meal sat before her. The chicken parmesan was really delectable, but with the foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach, she just couldn’t finish it. She’d put it in the mini fridge for the morning because she abhorred wastefulness. “I really wish that Epiphany hadn’t set me up at all.” 

A soft little noise came over the phone that screamed of exasperated fondness. _“We just want you to be happy, Elizabeth. You’ve been so busy trying to be free, and away from people who would use you that you haven’t looked for someone who wouldn’t.”_

“That’s not true. I have you, Jax and Epiphany,” Elizabeth denied. 

_“Yes, you have us at your back, but no one at your side. No one that is at your side to weather whatever storms comes you way. Just us who get in called in when the aftermath has settled in,”_ Brenda countered, smoothly. Elizabeth could almost see the red head nodding empathetically to emphasis her point inside her head. _“You need a person—not just any person, but the one that will be there until the end of the line.”_

She set her fork down onto the plate noiselessly, and emptied her glass. “And you think that Epiphany’s blind date is going to be that?” Elizabeth asked, flopping back carelessly. 

_“Maybe, maybe not,”_ Brenda said, breezily. _“But you’ll never know if you aren’t looking. You needn’t go in with eyes wide open, but not closed so tight that you can’t see what is potentially in front of you. Besides, with Sherlock Holmes on the case, you’ll have an answer quick on what kind of man your date is, so what’s the harm?”_

* * *

The coffee house was always quiet. Only people that knew Sonny or Jason, or were a part of that business actually came in to buy coffee. Even few stayed and loafed around. Courtney was one of those poor souls that didn’t seem to have anything in Port Charles besides her friendship with Carly and Gia, and sibling relationship with Sonny. She had burned the bridge with Jason when she had dared to cheat on him with Nicolas Cassidine, and ended up pregnant—after she was told by doctors that her becoming pregnant would never happen. She tried to milk it for as long as possible, testing waters with both men and deciding who she wanted to be the baby’s father. In the end, she didn’t get her chance to mess with any DNA results to match her wishes because Nicolas and Jason had it done at a private laboratory, far beyond Courtney’s reach. 

And Nicolas was founded to be Spencer’s father. 

Courtney clung to her marriage with all her might, and told Jason that he hadn’t minded to raise Michael, why should Spencer be any different? Those words held them together for a few short months until Jason caught her kissing Nicolas again, and the next day his name was on divorce papers. And what could Courtney do to fight them? She cheated, had a child as proof of her infidelity, and even with Carly and Sonny’s backing…Jason still held all the cards. So she signed the divorce papers, and it had been three years since then. Nearly four, and she still hadn’t given up hope that Jason would one day see how good they had been and give her a second chance. It’s why she hung around this dump, allowing Carly to talk her ear off in the hopes that if she was around Jason a lot then it would wear down his resolve. She even wore her best clothing that made her cleavage look spot on, and short skirts that showed off her toned athletic legs. 

And yet he resisted. She knew it had to do something with that trollop, Nadine. 

The blond doctor, who in Courtney’s opinion was too waif and meek to really satisfy Jason, had been hired by Jason to be all call for any “emergencies” that might crop up in the “coffee business”. She was bet that there was more to it than that. She had seen some of the guards looking at Nadine, and would bet her last dollar that she had spread her legs for the lot of them. It was always the sweet, innocent ones that were the biggest sluts, and they weren’t even any good at it. No, Jason needed someone with talent and that would be willing to do anything for him. And that was Courtney, not simpering little Nadine. She had been working her brother to get Nadine fired, but he had been no help really. 

_“Jason hired her. It’s his call.”_ That’s all Sonny would say. 

Courtney nearly rolled her eyes at Carly going on about Kate being a bitch in heat and how she should stay away from Sonny, but restrained herself. Honestly, she was beginning to believe that Sonny and Carly enjoyed the run around. Sonny cheated or Carly cheated, they would be at each other’s throats and break up, ugliness ensued with everyone close caught in the crossfire. Then something would happen, a softening on either side and they came rushing back together, tearing up anyone else who was in the way to jump each-others’ bones. It was pathetic. If Jason had cheated on her like that then Courtney would never ever get back together with him. 

The bell above the door dinged, and Gia came charging in. Courtney didn’t know if her and Gia were really friends, but the mutual hatred for Elizabeth Webber bonded them tightly. They had both been with men who had the nastiest little problem with pining for the brunette, even after she was gone. She had even tried to burn that horrible painting “The Wind”, but Jason had caught her. She played it off like she was going to move it somewhere else, and at first, she thought he believed it. But when she went to go after the painting again, it had been gone. He had put it away so Courtney couldn’t touch it, and that had made her furious. It was also the trigger that had her kiss Nicolas for the first time. As for Lucky, he had never been quiet about how he always expected Elizabeth to come crawling back one day. Gia should have known a man who liked to yammer on about an ex like that clearly had issues and wasn’t over them. She set herself up for heartache, but that wasn’t Courtney’s problem. 

“Jeez,” Courtney asked, with a snort, “who pissed in your cheerios?” 

“Elizabeth Webber.” 

Instantly, the demeanor of the blondes at the table changed. Both their expressions twisted into something unpleasant, but it was Carly who in a shrill tone, voiced that displeasure, “What does she have to do with anything? She’s a million miles away, unless you are telling me that Lucky is back to preaching the virtues of little miss innocent and claiming Jax took her away from him when we all know that Lucky drove her away with his craziness last time.” 

“She was a million miles away,” Gia corrected, her voice deadly calm. “She is back in Port Charles as of last night.” 

“What?” Courtney’s mouth dropped open in horror. 

“You are kidding me!” Carly sneered. 

“Nope. Lucky and I ran into her at the docks,” Gia stated, disgruntled. 

Courtney gritted her teeth together. “Let me guess, she’s picking up right where she left off. Making moon eyes at Lucky, and soon she’ll do the same to Jason. She always wants to be in the middle of a love triangle, and have men pawing at her like she is some prized pet,” the blond snipped, the insult falling off her toxic tongue so naturally. There was a time that Elizabeth had been a friend to her, her conscious reminded. But what remained of Courtney’s conscious was buried underneath heaps of selfish ambition, and could not be heard over it all. 

“Actually, it was Lucky with the moon eyes,” Gia reluctantly admitted, with a hint of sorrow in her dark eyes. “Elizabeth ran off as soon as he hit on her, and she looked horrified that he even did.” 

Carly considered that with a shrew gaze. “She is probably playing hard to get with Lucky because she wants to go after Jason first.” 

“Like hell she will,” Courtney said, crossing her arms over her chest. 

It never occurred to anyone, save for Gia, that perhaps Elizabeth had no romantic notions towards either man, and that a woman’s sole existence in life wasn’t just to chase after men. But what did occur to Courtney was that Elizabeth Webber was dangerous. She had a firm foot in Jason’s heart—friend or more—and that just couldn’t be tolerated. 

Not one bit. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) Greg Vaughn as you probably well know played Lucky Spencer for a while on General Hospital after two other actors, and now he plays Eric on Days of Our Lives (a role originated by Jensen Ackles.) This was my little nod to him. While I never supported Lucky and Liz after his return from “death”, I could not deny that Greg Vaughn and Rebecca Herbst had chemistry. Not as much as Liason and Lusam had in my opinion, but damn writers ignored the gold mine they had right in front of them. Ugh.  
> 2.) If you have a loved one that is abusing drugs, do want you can for them, but always understand that what they are doing is not a reflection on you. They chose to use the drugs—for whatever reason—and they have to get better for themselves. You can push and guide them to a good decision, but ultimately, it has to be them that make the effort. You can’t do that for them. If you are using drugs and want to stop, please look into the many rehab facilities and hotlines that offer support. You are stronger than the substance, and you can win your battle, you just have to believe in yourself and don’t give up.  
> RRs are appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU History: In a world where the reins of Deception were in Brenda Barrett’s and Jasper Jax’s hands, Elizabeth Webber was given a choice. A life free of those that would mold her into a fragile doll, and where she was able to flourish and grow into someone she wanted to be. She left Port Charles, and never looked back, until the end of her contract nears and Brenda wants her to do once last event. Old faces, old problems threaten to tear Elizabeth down from the life that she has built, but it is the surprising offer from Mycroft Holmes that could be her salvation or damnation.  
> Inspired by the “Guard Me, Sherlock” Game. It is an app available on all Andriod devices. Great game, I love it though waiting for tickets and such is a bit of a pain. Some dialogue and a little bit of the story plots from the game will be worked into the fanfiction, but have a GH twist and spin on certain things.  
> I decided to start this story after I wrapped another story “Branded” on AO3, and given that this follows the basic plot of the game with my twists added, it is easy to write it all out since I know where the plot is going.  
> I want the guest for kudos! :D

* * *

Chapter Two 

“The Meeting” 

* * *

_Dear God_ , Elizabeth stared at the flower arrangements brought in by the hotel employee only ten minutes earlier in horror. The poor boy, Damien, if she read his nametag right looked ready to pee himself at the furious glare that Elizabeth had given the flowers, which unfortunately for him had been in his arms at the time. She gave him a fifty dollar tip, hoping to make up for that, but she digressed. 

White roses. 

White fucking roses. 

And who was the only person who would send her white roses? Only one guess needed to get it right. 

The little card said: _Second chances are rare. We should take them when gifted them. Thinking of you, Lucky Spencer_. And with a hot feeling of anger boiling in her gut, she crushed the card in the palm of her hand and dropped the roses straight into the garbage. She really couldn’t believe his nerve. Did he really think that their less than lackluster meeting last night was the beginning of some grand revival of their frankly toxic past relationship? And she turned to eyeball the red lilies—a smaller arrangement—that had been sent by Luke and Laura with a card that had simply said: _Welcome home._

Oh, but she could read between the lines well enough. Lucky had seen her—all shiny and sparkling like a new toy that he had never really gotten to play with like he wanted—and now that he decided he wanted her back, the Spencers intended to help him. She wondered how long it would take them to muster up the nerve to confront her. She wondered if they would play the part of a friend, or would just they just dive straight in with their expectations of her now that Lucky had deemed her worth of notice? Damn it, she hadn’t even been in Port Charles for two days and she was already being reeled into the drama like a helpless fish on the hook, but she wouldn’t be played. 

The Spencers had their chance. They had their chance to prove that she really was family and that her value to them was more than what she could do for Lucky, and they blew it big time. Elizabeth might have let go of her anger, but she still had the memories. She wasn’t going to place nice with people who intended to use her. She had let herself be walked on before, and she hadn’t liked it. _Never fucking again_ , she declared to herself, tossing the lilies right in along with the roses. She winced at wasting such pretty flowers, but she couldn’t give them off to someone else. They were manipulation flowers, and had bad juju all over them now. 

She drew in a deep breath, and made her way to the bathroom. She twisted the handle, and the cold water came rushing out of the faucet. She cupped her hands beneath it, and leaned over the sink to splash it across her face. It was jolt to her body, driving away the heat of anger that flushed her cheeks and needled away at the bit of lethargy that clung to her after a restless night sleep. Alright, she admitted that maybe she hadn’t let her anger entirely go. There was a bit of bitterness in her heart reserved for all of those that turned their backs on her, but she had no intention of using it. She wouldn’t go seeking them. She didn’t need to. That chapter on her life was closed. 

She just wished they had gotten the memo. 

It was around nine-thirty after Elizabeth finally managed to get herself dressed, and get up for the day. She didn’t have to meet Mr. Holmes until later in the afternoon around five, so there was some time to kill. And she wasn’t going to hide in her hotel room all day. She wasn’t going to stop living her life because she was afraid of a little confrontation. Hell, a lot of confrontation, but she had honed her spine into razor sharp steel over the years, and her tongue could slash people into ribbons if she so felt inclined. She just hoped that she didn’t have to. She wasn’t cruel just to be cruel. It just wasn’t in her nature, but she would defend herself. Anyone that talked to her, she would give them an inch, but she would not let them take a mile. 

Kelly’s seemed like the natural first place to go. The bar Jake’s, it was far too early to go to there and anyone that was drinking at breakfast time wasn’t anyone she wanted to spend time with. She stepped through those doors, smiling slightly at the same green curtains that seemed to have been there forever, and the familiarity of the place washed over her like a warm hug from a mother figure. There were a few people sitting down eating, and when she realized no one recognized her, she felt a smile stretch across her face. _Anonymity…how I have missed thee,_ she laughed to herself, and made her way to the counter. 

“Hi, what can I get you?” The cashier named, Amy, asked, brightly. She was a beautiful, curvy girl who looked fresh out of high school. She seemed like a nice kid, if a bit too bubbly for Elizabeth’s taste because the bubbliest people either were manipulative or utterly naïve—both recipes for disaster. 

“Hot chocolate, please,” Elizabeth said, politely. 

The girl went about making it, her eyes flickering towards Elizabeth every so often. Elizabeth felt her eyebrow twitch, and she kept her expression perfectly still. _Great. Not as anonymous as I had hoped,_ she recognized the spark of recognition in the young woman’s eyes. She could practically see Amy debating with whether or not to say something. Elizabeth was kind of hoping for the not. She opened her purse up, and already had money waiting in hand to get this transaction over with as possible. Taking the styrofoam cup, she handed the girl the five dollar bill and told her to keep the change with a bright smile before turning on heel to cut off any possible conversation. 

But instead, she was faced with a face she hadn’t seen in forever, and likely the only face she would be happy to see in Port Charles. “Jason Morgan,” Elizabeth said, with a smile. Unlike the encounter on the docks with Lucky, there was no false politeness, but genuine happiness. “Long time no see, stranger.” 

Jason’s lips twitched into a smile. “I thought it might be you. I wasn’t sure. Carly said you were back, but I had to see for myself.” He gave a light shrug of his shoulder, the closest thing to sheepish that the reserved man would ever get passing over his face. “You look good. Happy.” 

“I am,” Elizabeth replied, honestly. 

“That’s good,” Jason nodded, his smile growing slightly. “You deserve to have a happy life. I always thought you did, but I have to say, I never thought I’d see you back in Port Charles after…everything that happened before you left.” 

“You mean the super huge dramatic blow out via the Spencers?” Elizabeth asked. It had been the finally straw that broke the camel’s back, and Elizabeth had to face the harsh fact that Port Charles wasn’t home anymore. 

“Yeah, that one,” he said, with an amused chuckle. 

“I wouldn’t be back in Port Charles if it weren’t for the arm twisting Brenda gave me. There is a charity event that’s happening in the next couple of weeks. A big gala that Lucy Coe swears she’ll make rival the Nurses Ball, and I have to attend and help host and stuff,” Elizabeth said, wrinkling her nose up in distaste. “At least, there will be good booze out of it. Hopefully. Brenda’s having this weird phase about ordering overly fruity drinks with no kick. Brenda also told me that if I saw you to send you her love, and that she hoped that room was still as pink as ever,” Elizabeth added, biting back a laugh when he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose at the mere mention of the pink room. 

“I hate that room,” Jason admitted, with a shake of his head. Brenda had come to him around 2002 to be guarded from Luis Alcazar who had convinced her that she was mentally ill. He honestly hated the time period—not because of the danger, that he could handle—but he had Brenda painting one of his rooms pink, and Jax always sneaking in and out to see her. And Sonny always throwing a tantrum about it. He was glad the danger was short-lived and Lorenzo had killed his brother when Luis threatened his wife, Skye. Brenda and Jax packed up, never to step foot in the penthouse again, but Brenda told him not to change the room or she’d haunt him. He wasn’t sure why she felt the need to make the threat. Probably just to annoy him. 

Elizabeth laughed. “I imagine so. Is it true that it’s hot pink?” 

“I don’t even know where she found the shade of pink,” he chuckled, running his hand down his jaw. “I was actually thinking of letting Nadine repaint it since she’s the one subjected to it every day.” 

“Nadine?” Elizabeth perked up, interested. She had seen the way Jason’s face softened ever so slightly when the name passed through his lips. There were only a handful of individuals that could cause his stoic façade to do that. Elizabeth had once been one of them. 

Jason shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “She’s a doctor who works for Sonny and I.” 

“Oh, so you all finally wised up to the fact that the coffee business is very cutthroat and having medical personal on hand is a smart thing?” Elizabeth teased him, recalling the time that she played nurse when he had been shot. That winter, he had helped her understand that it was alright to not be okay and feel nothing after Lucky “died”. And she had picked him up out of the snow, and urged him to live when he felt that he had little to live for. 

“I guess we did,” Jason said, lightly. “Though when we get hurt, she doesn’t force feed us a tub of broccoli cheese soup every day.” 

“It helped heal you, and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter, mister,” Elizabeth told him, with a mock glare before her lips pulled into a wicked smile. “I’d be happy to talk to this Nadine, you know. Let her know how much you love broccoli cheese soup, and how it helps your recovery time.” 

“Ah, no. That’s not necessary.” 

_Was that a flash of fear that passed over Jason’s face?_ Elizabeth snickered internally. The big bad mobster was afraid of broccoli cheese soup. Heaven help him, if his enemies ever found out about it. She had an imagine of Jason dangling above a huge vat of bubbling soup come to mind before she could help herself, and she bit her lower lip harshly to fight off laughing. 

“You’re laughing at me,” Jason accused. 

“Kind of,” Elizabeth said, with a guilty smile. She brushed her hair out of her face, and looked up for at him when a suddenly thought occurred to her. “You said Carly told you I was back. How did she know? I haven’t run into her yet.” 

“Gia is a friend of Carly and Courtney’s. As for Carly telling me…it was more that I overheard her telling Sonny,” Jason explained, with a light sigh. “She ran her mouth for a bit, going on and on, and you know how Carly is. She isn’t going to be quiet, and Sonny isn’t going to be the last person she tells.” 

“That does sounds like Carly,” Elizabeth commented, with a tight expression. “That didn’t take long. I don’t know why I had hoped it would.” 

“Did Lucky really hit on you in front Gia?” Jason had to ask. He wasn’t exactly the best in the romance department, but even he knew that wasn’t something a man did. 

“Yeah,” she nodded. “It was horrible and awkward. I kind of fled when him and Gia started arguing. That’s not something I want to get mixed up in.” Elizabeth sipped gingerly on the hot liquid. She nearly moaned at the silky smooth chocolate, and was glad that while many things had changed that Kelly’s hot chocolate hadn’t. “How about you? Last I heard you were engaged to marry Courtney.” 

“Married…and divorced,” Jason sighed, heavily. 

Elizabeth winced, seeing by the way the lines around his eyes tensed that it hadn’t been an amicable split. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she told him, gently. Out of everyone in Port Charles, she had really hoped that things had worked out for Jason. With people always relying on him and often pulling him in all kinds of directions, he deserved a bit of happiness and solace for himself even if that happiness meant being married to Carly Junior. She studied him for a long moment, and felt a sense of sadness swell up inside of her. There had once been something more between them—something undefined—and she realized in that moment that whatever that was, just wasn’t the same anymore. Not that she expected it to be after seven years, but it was a sad moment where a person had to acknowledge the end of something that could have been. “I know that must have been difficult considering Courtney was Sonny’s sister and Carly’s friend. They must have been caught in the middle of that.” 

Jason’s jaw clenched. “Not as much as you’d think.” 

Elizabeth felt her stomach clench at the pained tone in his voice. “Well…if you ever need a friend that has an ear, I have a couple to spare. I know that it’s been a long time since we last seen each other, and everything, but…you were one person who listened to me unconditionally when I needed it. It’s only fair I finally pay that forward,” she offered, reaching out to give his arm a quick, comforting squeeze. “And I’m not just saying that to be nice, and all. I really truly mean that. Our friendship is one thing that I missed most of all.” 

The fact that he looked slightly stunned by the offer made Elizabeth’s heart hurt, and she felt anger towards Carly and Sonny who were supposed to know him the best and have his back. They had failed him. Elizabeth acknowledged that she had failed him, too. And if she was going to be stuck here for the next few weeks, then she was going to make sure she made up for that failure. Starting with this Nadine girl who Jason hadn’t realized that he had feelings for, and she was going to see if Nadine returned Jason’s feelings. If so then she was going to do some matchmaking because Jason deserved to be loved by someone who loved him for who he was, not what he could give them. Stealing a napkin, Elizabeth pulled a pen out of her purse and scribbled down her number. “Here. This is my cellphone number. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. I mean it.” 

Jason took the napkin, a hesitant and thankful smile pulled his lips up. “My number is still the same, and the same goes for me. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call. I know…I know there’s a lot of people that would like to cause you trouble just because they can,” he told her, his blue eyes were serious. She had one of the most genuine hearts he had ever known, and this town nearly crushed it out last time. He wouldn’t let them get close enough to hurt her again like that if he could help it. “Do you remember it?” 

“I never forgot it, and I promise to call if I need help if you’ll make the same promise?” She bargained, with a clever smile. 

“I promise,” Jason nodded, meaning it. 

“Then I promise, too. Good-bye, Jason,” Elizabeth said, lightly. 

Jason stood there for a long moment, registering the words she used, and he gave her a long look before a bittersweet kind of smile settled on the curve of his mouth. It made her believe that he, too, acknowledged in his own way their missed chance, and the fact that their connection had settled into the zone of acquaintance/friendship area now. “Good-bye, Elizabeth.” 

She gave him one last smile before she walked out of Kelly’s. It was a bit bittersweet, but also releasing in a way that she hadn’t thought possible. Jason would always have a place in her life, she knew this instinctively, but now she knew exactly where that was unlike last time. In another world, in another life, maybe an Elizabeth and Jason there could have their shot. But this one was a far different story. 

There was a lightness to her step that hadn’t been there, but it seemed like it was not meant to be. As soon as Elizabeth was in walking distance of the shops a familiar head of red hair appeared, and before she could even duck into a store to avoid it, Bobbie Spencer stood before her. _How did a nurse afford plastic surgery?_ Elizabeth wondered, staring at Bobbie’s face. It wasn’t bad surgery per say, but it obvious the botox affected her facial expression. Her painted lips pulled into a smile, but nothing else on her face moved. The price of youth and beauty was a hefty one, it seemed. 

“Elizabeth Webber as I live and breathe,” Bobbie said, with a cheerful note in her voice. “Lucky told us that you were back in town. He said you looked like you hadn’t aged a day, and he was right. Looking at you, it’s hard to tell that seven years has passed. For a second when you stepped off the curb, I felt like it was 2001 all over again.” 

_Thank God that’s not the case_. “Bobbie, it’s good to see you. How are the grandchildren?” She asked, avoiding the subject of Lucky all together. 

“Michael is good. Morgan’s a bit of a handful,” Bobbie replied, with a laugh. “You know, that I think about it…I think Lucky was hoping to invite you over for dinner tonight. Luke and Laura aren’t going to be there. Off saving the world, or something like that. Did you get the flowers they sent? When Lucky told them that you were back, they said they ordered some to be sent to your hotel room.” 

Elizabeth fought to keep her expression calm. It was typical Spencer style manipulation. Be friendly, reel them, and they’ll never see the hook until it’s too late. But Elizabeth could see it now, and she didn’t find what was dangling there on said hook all that appealing as it once had been. “I got the flowers. The lilies were lovely.” _And now they are lovely in the bottom of the trash along with Lucky’s roses._ “I’m not sure I can do dinner, Bobbie. I have business meetings I have to attend, and I can’t squeeze out of them.” 

“Brenda and Jax keeping you on a tight leash until the bitter end, huh?” Bobbie commented, dryly. 

An instinctual need to defend Brenda and Jax rose up within her, but she bit it back because it would only fall on deaf ears. “Something like that,” she chose the vague reply, with a saccharine smile. “Look, Bobbie, I feel I need to be up front here. I had a brief run in with him and Gia at the docks, and it wasn’t so pleasant. I don’t think I feel comfortable with dinner or anything like that when there is obvious tension still there.” 

Bobbie seemed flummoxed for all of a moment. “Well, that’s probably because Gia was there. The girl thinks she is seriously in love with Lucky, but he just doesn’t feel that way about her. He has tried, you know, for the last year to make something out of a one night stand for the sake of their child—” 

“Child?” Elizabeth’s eyes widened. 

The nurse’s eyes went wide to when she realized that she may have made an error. “Lucky nor Gia mentioned little Lisa?” She asked, her tone careful. 

“No. Funny enough a child was never mentioned at any point during the conversation, but I wish them well. With all the drama that comes with being a Spencer, that child is going to need it,” Elizabeth said, with a smile fixated on her face. God, she wasn’t joking. 

Bobbie chuckled, missing the fact that it hadn’t been a joke. “Yes. Well, what can you do? The Spencer blood does run hot.” 

“Just like their tempers,” Elizabeth added, with a feigned gasp of shock when she glanced down at her wristwatch. “Dear me, is that the time already? I really have to go Bobbie. I have an appointment that I can’t afford to be late for. It was nice seeing you though. I hope that we get time to chat again.” _Just as soon as hell freezes over,_ she added, internally. 

A few more words were exchanged, and Elizabeth had walked away before Bobbie could ask for a phone number. Bobbie was one of the sore spots that still hurt the worst. The woman had been a big part of pulling herself up and rebuilding herself after her rape. She had idolized Bobbie, and it had been crushing when the person on that tall pedestal fell down. The rejection from one of the few people she thought she’d always be able to count on had hit her self-esteem harshly. While at her job, Elizabeth was cool and confident, in her private life she was far more reserved now. She chose her friends wisely, and her enemies even more wisely if she could. 

The rest of the day went without incident. She had shopped, buying some paints and new brushes, and a few little essentials here and there. She went about and window shopped at several stories before finding a blue pair of high heels that just spoke her name. (She was secretly a shoe whore, don’t tell anyone.) Until the little hands of the clock grew closer and closer to five, and the nerves that she had been holding at bay were eating her from the inside out. _Sherlock Holmes, famed consulting detective_ , she mused inside her head. She had looked up all about him last night because while Elizabeth knew his name, she hadn’t known about the cases he solved himself. 

Sherlock Holmes was working with the FBI and local police to catch the perpetrators behind a black market organ ring that was primarily working out of Port Charles and New York City. Normally, it would have been handled from within the country, but it seemed that this particular ring had ties not only in America, but in London and Japan as well. It was alarming that this was happening on such a large scale, but hardly the only kind of crime ring of its kind out there. Where there was a market, there was a supplier and those willing to be a go between for the right kind of money. She didn’t know how Brenda knew about Sherlock, or had managed to get her a meeting with him. Her friend had been deliberately vague, and just stated that he helped get her and her twin out of a bad living situation. It obviously was a sore subject, and so Elizabeth hadn’t pressed any further. 

She reached the restaurant, a swanky little place that had an old 1940s air to it, and was ushered by a friendly waiter to a private dining room. In the center of the room was a table where three men were already seated. The waiter led her to her seat, and gave a small bow before he exited the room, shutting the door behind him. All the men rose to attention—as was polite when the lady approached—and now that Elizabeth was closer to them, she inspected them with a critical gaze. Her eyes were firstly drawn to Mister Sherlock Holmes, and her first thought was that he was very tall. He was six foot to her five three so that had her head craned back just a bit to be able to stare into the icy blue gaze that held a knowledge and intelligence that she had never encountered before. Accessing, calculating, and filled to the brim with thoughts, those eyes held so much. His dark curly hair was adorable, and she was slight envious of that. No one had the right to look good with curls, and the planes of his face were intriguing. The second man with sandy colored hair had a boyish grin on his face, and greenish hazel eyes held a twinkle. He was stocky build like a soldier, and the more Elizabeth looked him over, she noticed that it wasn’t just his stature that gave her that impression, but also the way he held himself. This was John Waston, she recognized him from the photos she had found on the internet. And the third man without a doubt was Detective Inspector Greg Lestarde. He was an older man in his earlier forties, a bit of silver haired fox with light brown eyes. He had a man next door kind of feel to him because he was certainly no boy, and he had a charming smile on his face as she approached. 

“I’m—” John tried to start the introductions, but he didn’t far into them before Sherlock cut him off rudely. 

“She already knows who we are,” Sherlock gave a put up sigh, “so introductions are a bit redundant.” 

John and Lestrade blinked, and looked at her. 

“I may have used google last night, and seen some photographs that were up on John’s blog,” Elizabeth confirmed Sherlock’s deduction with a sheepish little smile, and a shrug of her shoulders. “And you all probably know me as well, unless that’s too much to presume?” 

“Elizabeth Webber,” Sherlock answered, her name rolling off of his tongue. “The Face of Deception.” 

The way he said it made her sound like she was some evil James Bond villainous rather than a model, and she felt her cheeks flush ever so slightly. “Well, not for much longer,” Elizabeth said, lightly. “I’m afraid it’s about time for the final curtain on my time in the fashion world.” 

“Really?” John looked stunned. “I haven’t heard anything about it.” 

“You wouldn’t,” Elizabeth shook her head. “Brenda, one of my bosses, is formally announcing it at a charity event. She is also announcing a contest for the next Face of Deception to quell any upset.” 

“You don’t seem very upset about it,” Lestrade commented, curiously. 

“I’m not. Modeling was never a forever deal for me,” Elizabeth replied, with a roll of her shoulders. “It just gave me the freedom I needed at a crucial time of my life, and now it’s time to leave so I’m able to pursue my real passion.” 

“And what would that be?” Sherlock asked, his words were always spoken so fast. Like there was no filter to process them, and that whatever was on his mind came out. It was almost refreshing to find someone so blunt and honest. It gave Elizabeth a bit of hope to his character, even if Brenda said he could be a bit of a git sometimes. 

“Painting,” Elizabeth smiled, wistfully. “There is no better feeling in the world than me lost in my own world, with a paint brush in my hand and an empty canvas ready to be filled with wherever my imagination leads me. On top of running an art gallery, that is. I want to work with young minds, helping them get the footing that I never got to and also to view masterpieces of maestros of old.” 

“That sounds lovely,” John commented, after the tea was served. “You sound like you everything figured out in your life.” 

Elizabeth chuckled. “I’d said it’s about time. Took me a few years. I may be a slow learner, but I learn.” 

“Somehow, I do not think you are a slow learner at all,” Sherlock countered, smoothly. “I think that you’ve let your emotions keep you from putting into practice the lessons that you have learned in order to spare the feelings of others. Or at least, they used to.” 

“Sherlock,” John admonished him. 

“No, that’s actually very true,” Elizabeth said, not ashamed of her past. Everyone did things for their loved ones in hopes of recognition or praise. Eventually people are supposed to grow, and realize that while that praise was good, one had to be fulfilled for themselves not for others. “It’s why I chose to stay on at Deception. The modeling contract gave me the money and aid to break such nasty habits of sacrificing myself for people who only used me.” 

Lestrade’s eyes flickered with disquiet. “I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through that. No one deserves to be used by the people that they love,” he said, his tone very soft. He empathized with her on a level she didn’t realize. He had been used by his ex-wife who had cheated on him behind his back for years, and had promised to work on their marriage only to get more money out of him. The second she got what she wanted, she was already back to her cheating ways and leaving him in the dust. 

“Now that the social etiquette of small talk has been reached,” Sherlock said, with haughty sniff. He sat straighter in his chair, and regarded her over the table with an intense gaze. “Why have you sought out my services?” 

“I know that this is going to sound silly,” Elizabeth started, feeling embarrassed for taking such a man’s time. “And I honestly feel stupid for coming to you when you are working on the black market case that the media has been all over—” 

“He hasn’t,” John said, biting back a grin. 

Sherlock shot him a petulant look. 

“He got kicked off the case until he can behave and play well with others,” Lestrade said, coating his cone with blueberry jam. “Which means he’ll just sit here, making us miserable until the FBI and local police realize that they aren’t getting anywhere without him and bring him back on.” 

“Oh.” Elizabeth blinked. 

“Your case,” Sherlock reminded, sharply. He seemed slightly embarrassed to be reminded that his bad behavior had put him on the outs of the case. 

“Of course. I have someone…I’d like to have investigated,” Elizabeth said, fiddling with the cuff on her wrist. It was ornate and had flowers on it, she traced the pattern with her thumb nervously. “In my line of work I can’t be too careful whom I meet.” 

“You want someone investigated? Like a background check?” John frowned. 

“Yeah, I suppose you could call it that.” 

She looked at the dark haired, blue eyed man. He was the world’s greatest detective, many would say, and she knew that there was a chance he could laugh off her request. Still she had to try regardless. She hadn’t been joking about the fear of letting the wrong person in her life. She had done that before, and no, it happened after she left Port Charles. It was unpleasant and something she wished she could erase from history all together. She had to be certain that this person was a decent human being, to feel safe and secure in meeting him even if nothing came out of the blind date. 

“…Boring.” Was the detective’s reply. 

_Ouch_. Elizabeth thought, struggling to hold back the wave of frustration that pooled inside her gut. She knew that her request was strange. She knew it was paranoid. She knew that her anxiety and fear ruled that part of her life—the fear of intimacy, the fear of touch, and how it started and how it festered like an untreated wound. She could pick out the moments in her life that had made her cautious and had hardened her. Part of her considered telling him this—if only in the vaguest sense—of why she was the way she was, but her throat immediately closed. Dark memories were meant to stay locked away, and she didn’t have the heart to give them life and face them today. 

Lestrade gave Sherlock a sharp look. “So you are going to dismiss her out of hand like that? She is here with a serious request you know, no matter how boring it may seem to you,” the Detective Inspector told Sherlock, with his arms folded over his chest. 

“Come on, Sherlock,” John said, with clear disapproval on his face. “At least, hear what she has to say before making a decision. You haven’t even given her a chance to disclose the details.” 

“Details? There is no need.” 

Elizabeth cocked her head to the side and regarded Sherlock with a shrewd gaze. “Do you mean to say that you are such a good detective that something like a background check isn’t worthy of your time, and therefore boring or…?” She honestly couldn’t blame him, if he thought so. Background checks vs. black market organ and criminal masterminds? She knew which sounded more exciting, and it certainly wasn’t her case. 

His eyes shot upward, and met hers. “I didn’t say that.” 

“Oh?” Elizabeth asked, her expression inscrutable. Carefully closed off, not only hope to grow so it could die a swift death again. “But you just said my case was boring. That you didn’t need the details.” 

“‘Boring.’ That’s right, I said it was ‘boring’. But that’s nothing more than my personal feelings on the subject, and as such, you should feel free to ignore it. And the reason I told you I didn’t need the details of you case is because I have a rough idea of what it this is about,” Sherlock replied, with a slight quirk of his lips. 

“Wha…” Elizabeth was stunned. A mixture of relief and disbelief coursed through her veins, and she sat there staring at the man in front of her. Honestly, his expression gave nothing away. He had a hell of a poker face—better than hers—and she had a feeling that only a select few in the world would ever come to know his tell. 

“When trying to persuade someone of something, most people become rather talkative. They’re trying to attract the other person’s interest by telling them, whatever they know,” Sherlock informed her, picking up the honey off the table. He popped the cap open, and then proceeded to pour some into Elizabeth’s tea. 

“Sherlock, she didn’t say…” John protested. 

“Because she didn’t want to be a bother,” Sherlock replied, cutting him off. He sealed the lid back on the honey, and returned it to its place on the table. “Cut from a different cloth than most that would seek stardom, and allow it to go to their head. Now back to what I was saying, while you wanted me to take your case you didn’t present me with any information of the person. Instead, you waited for me to answer. Now why is that? Because you almost have no information of this person, at all.” 

Elizabeth felt her jaw go slack slightly. She was surprised by how accurately he was. She shouldn’t be, but it was one thing to hear of it, and another to have a firsthand experience of just how Sherlock Holmes worked. 

“You don’t even have a name, do you?” Sherlock asked, lightly. He ran the pad of his thumb across the bottom of his chin, and tilted his head to the left ever so slightly. “You are a model and actress that has come to me to formally request my services. When we take that into account that leaves us with two possibilities.” 

John’s brow furrowed into a knot. “Reasons a young actress might come to Sherlock asking him to investigate someone’s background? Maybe there’s an overeager fan that has been harassing her or something?” He guessed, looking at Elizabeth with concern in his eyes. 

“Yeah, that kind of stuff happens sometimes. Fans can get too enamored with someone, and end up turning into malicious stalkers,” Lestrade commented, grimly. He had seen too many stalkers in his time at Scotland Yard, and the laws were often so vague when it came to stalking that it made it hard to protect and get justice for the victims. 

“If that were the case, then it wouldn’t be a background check she’d want. And she’d be taking this up with the local police rather than me,” Sherlock dismissed their observations, with a light huff. It was clear that he thought their suggestions were silly though neither seemed to take offense so it must be something they were quite used to. 

“Ah, I guess you have a point,” Lestrade conceded, rather gracefully. 

“That means that either she fell in love with a man she passed on the street at first sight, someone she knows nothing about, not even his name…” Sherlock started, slowly and thoughtfully. If one listened, they could practically hear the gears of his mind working. 

“She doesn’t seem like the type to do that,” John said. 

“I’m not,” Elizabeth confirmed, almost laughing at the notion. 

“…or she’s been set up on a blind date by a meddlesome friend, or perhaps her parents, and she wants to know about the person she’s going to be meeting,” Sherlock concluded, a smile stretched upon his face. He knew the second the shock flashed through her eyes that he had figured it out, and looked quite pleased with himself. 

“That’s…that’s amazing,” Elizabeth said, astounded. 

“I see. So it is the latter, then,” Sherlock nodded, slightly. 

“Yes. I got a phone call out of the blue from my friend, Epiphany, who said she wanted to set me up with an acquaintance of hers, but she will not disclose just who this person is much to my frustration,” Elizabeth replied, looking at him with slight awe. “The fact that you knew that before I even told you about any of it is amazing, Mr. Holmes. You’re even more perceptive and better at deduction than I’d heard.” 

“Why thank you.” 

“Now you’ve done it. He’ll be unbearable to live with now,” John sighed, heavily. 

“Unbearable? He is already unbearable,” Lestrade scoffed. “He’ll be a downright nightmare. So… a blind date, huh? I see. That’s why Sherlock felt that it was so ‘boring’, then.” 

Elizabeth smiled, sheepishly. “While I’d love to bring you something more scandalous or thrilling, I have always endeavored to stay away from that kind of thing. I had enough of that in my life when I was a teenager and right when I started modeling. It wasn’t a pattern I felt keeping in my life,” she chuckled, with a helpless shrug. “But yep, this is just about a blind date.” 

Sherlock hummed. “When is this date scheduled to take place?” 

“This Sunday. We’re supposed to meet in the open air café seating at Lucci & Mason at 2 PM,” Elizabeth said, clasping her hands together in front of her. The tea she had drank slowly through the talk now settled in her stomach sourly. She was nervous about this all, but figured if she tried one blind date then Epiphany and Brenda couldn’t say she didn’t make an effort. “It’s just so sudden that I don’t know what to do…” 

“You don’t need to do anything. Just meet this person, and if he isn’t to your liking, just reject him. That’s the way those sort of things work,” Sherlock told her, nose wrinkled. “Simple and straightforward really.” 

“I mean…yeah, that’s true, but…” Elizabeth hesitated. 

John gave Sherlock a look out of the corner of his eye while an amused smirk crossed his face. “‘ _Just reject him_ ,’ huh? I noticed you didn’t day that if she likes him, she should continue dating him, now did you?” The doctor said, with a wicked gleam in his eyes. 

“John, what are you trying to at? From the way you’re talking, it sounds like you’re trying to suggest something,” Lestrade narrowed his eyes, curiously at John. “Is something going on here I’m not aware of?” 

“Oh, yeah, something’s going on. After all, Sherlock is one of her…” John started. 

Sherlock exploded, talking very fast and vehemently and pointing a finger straight at his friend. “That’s enough! No more talking. Shut that mouth of yours this instant. Better yet, get out. Out of this room, now!” The consulting detective demanded, in a childish burst of emotions and a dash of pink upon his high swept cheeks. His blue eyes spat daggers at John, and if looks could kill then the good doctor would have been turned to ashes. 

Elizabeth saw the conversation was in danger of going off the rails completely, so she hastily brought the subject back to her face even if she was a little curious as to what John was getting at. “I think I know how a blind dates works,” she said, lightly. “But I’m just not interested in going on a date with someone I don’t know. I thought about saying no, but Epiphany has already told him yes. Given my job, I cannot afford to be too careful with things like blind dates.” 

“Even so, the fact that you want to investigate the person you’re meeting means that you’re not very fond of this idea,” said Sherlock, firmly. 

“That’s right. Which is why…” She began, softly. 

“If you’d like me to learn more about this person that you will be having a blind date with, then I’m willing to do that,” Sherlock offered, immediately. 

Elizabeth blinked. “Really? You’d really be willing to do that?” 

“I would have not offered if otherwise,” said the consulting detective, with a light snort. His eyes were closed, and shoved away his cup of tea. He pulled his scarf out of his jacket, and with an elegant flourish wrapped it around his neck. 

Lestarde gaped at Sherlock. “What has come over him? I can’t believe Sherlock is going to accept a case like this without any kind of persuading,” the Scotland Yard man said, in a conspiratorial whisper—that wasn’t really a whisper at all—to John. 

“It’s like I was trying to say, Greg,” said John, with a smirk. “You see…” 

Sherlock interrupted, talking loud so that whatever John said was lost underneath the power of his voice. “If you don’t like the idea of me investigating him prior to your date, I can do it during the date. I’ll look into what kind of person he, and he won’t even notice me,” Sherlock reassured her, his jaw clenched tightly. “I am excellent at disguising myself.” 

Relief rushed through her, and the tension that had been plaguing her all day eased ever so slightly. “Uh, during the date would be fine. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate having a great detective like you personally look into him for me. Thank you,” Elizabeth said, genuine in her gratitude. 

Sherlock opened his eyes, and gave her a long look. “That’s right. Also I feel that it bears mentioning that I have figured out something else about you,” he stated, his tone careful and methodically. “A moment ago when Lestrade and John brought up the subject of stalkers, you looked away, and your eyes darted about, and you heart rate elevated due to stress. You don’t consider whomever is bothering you a ‘stalker’, but it is a similar situation, yes?” 

Elizabeth felt her heart drop. 

“You have a stalker?” Lestrade asked. 

“Pay attention for once, Lestrade. I said whoever is bothering couldn’t quite be considered a stalker,” Sherlock said, with little patience. The consulting detective was abrasive and abrupt and prickly in way that reminded Elizabeth a bit like a cactus. 

“It’s true then?” John looked at Elizabeth. 

Lucky’s behavior put her on edge, and she wished he’d just get the hint that she wasn’t interested. “But it’s really not a big deal. There’s no need for any of you to worry about that.” 

Sherlock was not so easily deterred. “I have a right to request that my clients provide me with information, and my clients have an obligation to provide said information when I request it,” his tone was clipped, and his eyes bored into her. 

Elizabeth fidgeted, slightly. “It doesn’t have anything to do with my blind date. Honestly, I can’t see how it will affect anything.” 

“Allow me to be the one decide whether it’s related or not. If you don’t provide me with the information I request, then I won’t be taking your case,” Sherlock told her, sternly. 

“Ah, everything is right with the world once more,” Lestrade said, pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. “Back to being the dictatorial man we all know, and have to put up with.” 

“Whatever it is, you can tell us. Greg and I will be mum about your business and despite how he comes across, Sherlock is basically a professional and he won’t divulge any information you share here,” John told her, with a small and genially smile. 

“‘Despite how I come across?’” Sherlock mocked, haughtily. “‘Basically a professional?’ What a stellar review, John, but I do believe you could have left those two qualifiers out.” 

Realizing that there was no way around it, Elizabeth rather reluctantly caved. What could it hurt really? Lucky was a minor annoyance, and it wasn’t exactly a secret. “My ex-fiancé…I ran into at the docks after I had come back to Port Charles, and he sent me flowers,” Elizabeth explained, wringing her hands together in her lap. “And his parents did, too, after years of silence after they felt I betrayed them by leaving Port Charles.” 

“I see. So it’s someone you’re not interested in,” Sherlock said, with a light frown gracing his features. “And they clearly cannot get the hint.” 

“Yes. I haven’t gotten a chance to really make it clear to him personally that I don’t want to ‘pick up where things left off.’ That’s not why I came back to Port Charles, no matter how much Lucky convinces himself otherwise,” Elizabeth stated, the frustration she had been keeping at bay leaking out. She knew how this song and dance would go. She wondered if Lucky had ever saw her as a person, rather than an object to be whatever he desired. “He already wants more than I am willing to give; I know it because he has already told his family about me. I’ve already been stopped, and invited for dinner. All I can think is that he has given them this impression that we are on the road to renewing our relationship, and…” She cut off with a heavy sigh, and clenched her eyes closed. She hated the fact tears were so close to burning in her eyes, and they were tears of pure anger. How dare all those people who turned their back on her way back when, who didn’t even know her as a person anymore, come up to her and try to tell her how to live her life? Just because Lucky Spencer decided he liked what he saw, and wanted her. Damn what she wanted apparently. “I have a bad feeling that no matter how clear I get with my rejections, that’ll he not even realize that I’m rejecting him and completely miss the fact that I’m not interested.” 

“He is the persistent type?” John asked. 

“Painfully persistent when he wants to be.” 

John used a napkin to brush away the crumbs from the scones he ate off his jacket. “If I am right about the kind of person he is, then it might not be that he won’t understand that you are rejecting him. Rather it could be that he will just pretending not to understand,” the doctor suggested, with a disgruntled tone. “It’s likely that he knows what he is doing, and he knows that it’s wrong to keep pressuring you despite you shutting him down. But he thinks he’ll be able to wear you down, eventually get you to concede and go out with him.” 

“I agree with John,” Sherlock inclined his head. “It is clear that he is well aware of what he is doing. He knows that you are likely against any involvement with him, which is why he has roped his family into doing his dirty work. He believes that they may have a chance to manipulate you whereas he cannot. And taken in the fact you are unsurprised this isn’t the first time he has done this.” 

“No, it isn’t,” Elizabeth said, looking down. “But we are all young and stupid once. I’m just fortunate that I woke up to the nightmare that became my life when I did. Anyways, I intend to deal with that on my own. What I’m more concerned about is the unknown person I am to be going on date with.” 

“Do not be,” Sherlock told her. “I’ll be there on the day of your date, and you’ll have an extra pair of eyes watching out for you. You should meet with this person and go about your date just as you would normally. Any other questions?” He inquired, 

“Nothing that comes to mind,” Elizabeth replied. 

“In that case, we’re done here. I’ve got other matters to attend to,” Sherlock said, and rose out of his chair. He slid on his long blue trench coat, and his long fingers make quick work of the buttons. “Lestrade, let’s go see how the imbeciles at the police station are doing even if we aren’t supposed to be there. John, I believe you can escort the lady out.” 

And like that—abrupt and sudden—Sherlock Holmes left the private dining room, with Lestrade sending her a quick apologetic look before he rushed after the consulting detective in order not to be left behind. 

There was a couple of seconds of complete silence ticked by before she turned, and looked at John with a curious expression on her face. “…is he always so…” Elizabeth couldn’t think of a word to properly describe Sherlock Holmes. 

“Sherlock is always like this, so don’t take it personally,” John said, with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“Alrighty then.” 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.) Why put Jason with Nadine? I always liked the character Nadine and often when I have Elizabeth paired with someone else, Jason is alone in the background. I wanted to write a story where he had a bit of happiness, too. AND DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS TO WRITE LIASON AS FRIENDS ONLY? To write where they acknowledged their missed chance? UGH. MY FEELINGS, WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF? I literally kept imagining if this was a Liason story how that scene would be so different and had to keep reminding myself that this wasn’t a Liason story and not to fall for it while I am writing this. My heart…it hurts…so badly.  
> 2.) Honey Tea—I honestly loved the appeal of Ewen and Elizabeth, and how he seemed to see the insecurities and worries that Elizabeth had of being a burden. The scene where he adds honey to her tea, and he tells her that she just didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to be a bother is a scene I loved. (Of course, the writers ruined that, too.) But I imagine that Sherlock is the kind of man who picks up on that kind of thing, so it worked its way into the fic. I think I have added it to other Elizabeth’s stories, too, so it might be cliché by this point, but what the hell? If I am going to be cliché, best do it right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing from General Hospital which belongs to ABC and it's respective owners. I do not own Sherlock BBC, which belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and it's respective owners. I don't own "Guard Me, Sherlock". That belongs to it's respective owners. Hercule Poirot is a creation of Agatha Christy, and not mine! This is only for pure amusement and imagination, and to hone my writing skills.  
> Author’s Note: I think a lot of traps that male and female writers fall into is making women to be shallow, jealous, and always chasing after men like they have no existence besides that. Now I do realize that Courtney, Carly and a little bit of Gia seem to act this way, and sadly this is the way that Soap Opera often portray women characters. It seems that integrity is sacrificed to make “cat fights” happen, and that’s why these three are minor in the grand scheme of things. I would rather show Brenda, Epiphany, Nadine, Elizabeth who I feel are a healthier and more accurate depiction of real life women than stereotypical soap opera characters, at least in this fic anyways. So I want to apologize if it feels a bit tropey when it comes to these women being jealous of Elizabeth. I will go more in depth to why these feelings exist, and hopefully make these characters more than one note despite them not being a huge part of the story.
> 
> I wan to thank Hihihibye and Anon for the comments! I hope that I cleared things up for you, and hope that perhaps you'll come back to read more chapters.
> 
> I want to thank the guest for kudos! :D

* * *

Chapter Three 

“The Blind Date”

* * *

Courtney Matthews was on a mission. She didn’t care why Elizabeth was in town, but she wanted the little wretch gone before she could sink her claws into Jason. It was bad enough that Nadine was making doe eyes at Jason in order to land herself in his pants and wallet, now she had to put up with the woman who Jason had wanted to be with but never got the chance. She had waited years to get her chance to start over with Jason, and she wasn’t going to lose it now. She was so tired of losing, and scraping by in this world. She had grown up with her con woman of a mother, hopping from bed to bed and Courtney had to endure “new” dads every other week. A few who had been more interested in Courtney than her mother at times, she thought with her stomach twisted violently into knots. 

She refused to be like that again. She refused to have to lay on her back for money, or work the stripper pole to get by. She refused to have to sleep in the back of a car with trash, using fast food wrappers as a makeshift blanket and hunger gnawing at her empty stomach while her mother screwed her latest man on the hood of the car. Courtney felt her jaw clench tightly, determination filled her heart. She wanted a good shot in life, and Jason was her good shot. She had messed things up so badly, but she could fix them given the chance. She knew she could, so she couldn’t let him slip away no matter what. “And you sure you will be here in time?” She asked the person on the other end of the phone. 

_“I’ve already set up my flight.”_

“Good,” Courtney said, firmly. “I knew I could count on you, Ric.” 

_“Of course, I’d help. What is family for?”_

Courtney barely repressed a snort. 

Ric Lansing was family, sort of. While Courtney was Sonny’s sister through their father, Ric was Sonny’s brother through his maternal side. Sonny didn’t particularly care for his half-brother after all the horrible stuff he has done over the years to get Sonny landed in jail, not to mention drugging and sleeping with Carly. Courtney had no love for him, either, but she wasn’t above using him to keep Elizabeth far away from Jason. She remembered that Ric had been interested in the brunette’s picture that Jason had kept on the mantle next to pictures of his nephew, Michael and sister, Emily. Of course, Elizabeth hadn’t been in town at that point, just starting her “big” career in Paris. 

But now that she was back, Courtney could rely on Ric’s need to be better and have all that Jason had. What better than to put Elizabeth in his crosshairs? With Elizabeth out of the way, half of Courtney’s problems were solved. 

She hung up the phone just in time for Carly to walk in. If the other blonde knew that she had basically given incentive for Ric to return to Port Charles, she had a feeling that she would never be forgiven. But to get the man and the life that she deserved, Courtney would take any and all risks even if she had to throw her friends and family under the bus in the process. 

“Who was that?” Carly asked, curiously. 

“Just the social service office. My paperwork to become a foster mom has gone through,” Courtney lied, through her teeth. “Where is Jason? I thought that he was supposed to be with you? Or has he already run off chasing Elizabeth?” 

Carly let out a deep sigh. “No, he isn’t chasing Elizabeth. Thank goodness.” 

“Then where is he?” 

“He and Nadine took Michael to the movies,” Carly stated, after a moment of a hesitation. 

“And you let them?” Courtney’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You know how I feel about her! She’s a manipulator, Carly! She used her profession to make Jason think he needed an on call doctor, and is now using her wiles to win her way into his home, not to mention the guards that she screws alone the way.” 

“Do you have proof she is sleeping with any of the guards?” Carly asked. 

“Are you defending her?” Courtney sneered. 

“No, I don’t like her, either. But I know better than to throw around accusations without proof, especially to Jason,” Carly commented, with a hard smile. “If you know that Nadine is sleeping with the guards, then get evidence or make some.” 

“Make some?” 

“There is more than one way to skin a deer, and there is more than one way to get rid of little problems like Elizabeth Webber and Nadine Crowell.” 

* * *

Elizabeth was at a glass making shop, looking over all the finely crafted birds, flowers and vases that had been handmade. Her grandmother had always loved such things, and she would always buy something small to put into the curio cabinet that reminded her Audrey. It was a small way to keep the woman’s memory alive and deal with the wealth of guilt of never getting to say goodbye. She sighed, stroking the glass rose that she intended to buy. The stem was made of a clear green tint glass with delicate leaves just a shade different, and the petals were a beautiful red, dusted with deep pink crystals that shimmered underneath the light. She made her way to the counter when she nearly bumped into someone. “Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry. I didn’t see you there,” Elizabeth apologized, and then nearly recoiled when the woman turned around. 

It was Emily Quartermain, Jason’s younger sister and once upon a time her best friend. 

Elizabeth felt unease sink into her gut. She wanted to believe that Emily would have grown and matured after seven years, but there was something about Port Charles that seemed to bring the toxicity out of most people. “Hello, Emily,” she greeted, with a polite smile that gave away nothing of the panic that burned inside her. 

“Elizabeth, I heard from Bobbie you were in town,” Emily Quartermain said, with a light laugh. She looked so much like she had seven years ago, and greeted her with a bright smile as if they were still the best of buds. “I couldn’t believe it. It has been so long since I last saw you.” 

“Yeah, it is has,” Elizabeth replied, barely keeping a grimace off her face. The last time that Emily and she had seen each other is when Emily threw a glass of champagne all in her face for telling Lucky off for putting his hands on her when she made it clear that she had no interest in marrying him. “I heard that you and Nicolas were engaged.” 

“It wasn’t easy, especially with Courtney hanging around,” Emily wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I’m not sure what Jason ever saw in her, but thank heavens he has divorced the witch.” Her eyes widened slightly, and then she hastily added, “But Jason isn’t lonely. He has Nadine now, a nice girl that isn’t anything like Courtney or Carly.” 

Elizabeth almost rolled her eyes. It was clear that Emily added that last tidbit in as if she were afraid that if Elizabeth thought Jason was available then she’d be running after him in a split second. While she had no desires for Jason like that now, it wouldn’t have been Emily or anyone else’s business if she did. “I know. Jason told me when we ran into each other day,” Elizabeth stated, evenly. “He seems rather taken with Nadine. It’s good, he deserves to have someone love and cherish him.” 

“He really does,” Emily said, her expression softening. She fiddled with the vase in her arms before she cleared her throat, and brushed her hair of her face. “You know that Lucky has been worried about you all these years. He always longed for you to come home, and that one day you would remember how much you owed and loved him.” 

_The words owed and loved did not belong in the same sentence_ , Elizabeth thought, feeling a rush of annoyance burn in her cheeks. A person didn’t owe another person their love. A person chooses to give someone their love. It didn’t work like a bank, with debt and interest, all cold and clinical. At least, it shouldn’t be. “Emily, I’m not looking to get back together with Lucky,” Elizabeth told her, not beating around the bush. Subtly didn’t work with thick headed people who were on Team Spencer, and it was best to be as blunt as possible so they couldn’t read her politeness as a sign on her forehead saying, ‘Hello, I am Doormat.’ 

“But you going to be are free from that con of a contract that Jax and Brenda tricked you into, and you are finally home, and Lucky is willing to forgive the past and move on,” Emily said, brightly. It was as if the other woman was deliberately obtuse to the fact that Elizabeth didn’t seem all that excited about the vision that Emily described. “Why aren’t you willing to give it a chance?” 

Elizabeth put the change the cashier handed her into the donation jar. She gave them a quick smile and thanks before accepting the little box with her glass rose in, and turned on her heel, keenly aware of Emily following her like a dog with a bone. “I don’t know what Lucky has been feeding you, Emily, but none of it is true. Jax and Brenda never conned me. In fact, I was willing to work for Deception from Port Charles until the harassment of the Spencer family, you and many others made this town intolerable to live in.” 

“If you weren’t conned into then why stay on as a model? You were miserable!” Emily countered, stubbornly. 

“I was miserable because you all were making me miserable!” Elizabeth whirled around. They were on the very edge of the park which was quiet and empty at this time of day. “You all acted like I was some savior meant to cure Lucky of whatever trauma he endured on that island, like I alone had some magical key that would fix everything and it’d be all hunky dory. But it wasn’t like that. Lucky was bitter and angry and dangerous. You all didn’t have to deal with his rages, I did. You all didn’t have to worry when it’d escalate from yelling to something more physical, I did. And when I dared to mention maybe getting Lucky into therapy or have him talk to someone, it was always, ‘No, Elizabeth. All he needs is the power of your love. True love can get you through anything.’ Well, guess what? If that’s true love, it sucked.” 

Emily gaped at her, mouth opening and closing in an unflattering imitation of a fish. 

“And no, being a model was never in my plans, but I was drowning under the weight that all of you put on me. And no matter how hard I tried to get anyone to listen, you all were deaf to what I was going through. So when Brenda presented me with an offer, I saw the chance to get back my freedom and I will be damned before I regret taking it,” Elizabeth told her, vehemently. Her blue eyes were alit with a righteous anger, and she couldn’t believe how obsessed people were with Lucky’s happiness. There was wanting someone to be happy and trying to help, and then there was bending over backwards to cater to a little boy masquerade as a man. She knew which category she’d place Lucky in. 

“I-I can’t believe you! You have really changed!” Emily declared once she found her voice. She drew herself up tall, and glowered at Elizabeth like she was something on the bottom of her shoe. “What happened to the sweet girl who loved Lucky? What happened to my best friend who—?” 

“Who was a push over and let everyone else choose what was best for her?” Elizabeth cut her off, harshly. “Look Emily, I didn’t want to come off as a bitch, but I know I already have so I see no point in holding back now,” she stated, bluntly. “We haven’t seen each other in years. We haven’t talked or spoken. You know nothing about what my life is like, or who is in it. Did it ever occur to you that I wasn’t pining away for Lucky? That I got on my own two feet and moved on while building a beautiful life with people that love and value the person that I am today? 

“And you know, maybe if you had cared to ask about my life—to call and ask to have lunch, and didn’t try to immediately throw me under the bus for the next coming of Luke and Laura that you and everyone else seem to think Lucky and I would be then I would have respected you enough to hear you out on this,” Elizabeth told her, sorrow etched in her face. She blinked away the angry tears, and just shook her head sadly. “I still would have told you that Lucky and I weren’t happening, but I would have done it a lot nicer than this. And furthermore don’t act like my attitude isn’t warranted. When I stayed on with Deception after Jax took over, you all turned your backs on me so fast that it was mind boggling, especially after everything I had given up and sacrificed to be a part of your family. So you don’t get to play victim here. I made my choices, and you made yours.” 

Emily stood there flushed in the face, and her breaths were coming in sharp and shallow gasp. The look in her eyes seemed to convey the sentiment that Elizabeth was the lowest of the low, along with a nice _‘go to hell’._

“Now,” Elizabeth swiftly composed herself, only feeling a margin of guilt for blowing up on Emily like that, “I have someone I am supposed to meet, and despite the ugliness of our chat…I do wish you and Nicolas nothing, but the best in your engagement. Don’t let Helena spoil your happiness, not for a moment. Even if we aren’t friends anymore and clearly that won’t change in the future, I always thought you and Nicolas deserved to be happy together.” 

“Like I would believe that after everything you just said,” Emily spat, viciously. “You know what? You really are the two-faced bitch that Gia always said you were. I can’t believe we were fooled for so long. I don’t know why Lucky even bothers with you. I certainly won’t until you learn to pull your head out of your ass.” 

_Pot. Kettle._ Elizabeth thought, watching the Quartermain girl furiously storm away. She had been genuine in wishing her happiness with Nicolas because while it was annoying to have them hounding her about Lucky—even though it has been nearly _SEVEN YEARS!_ —she didn’t wish them harm. She certainly wasn’t going to be buddy buddy with people who thought her value was attached to what man she was with, and didn’t see her for her own merit, but sometimes like right now there was a pang. It was an echo of sadness for the friendship that was lost, and would never exist again. 

Turning her mind away from her former friend, she organized her thoughts and feelings the best she could and made her way down the street towards the café where she was to have her blind date. She arrived with ten minutes to spare, as she glanced down at the watch on her wrist. She was glad she was here a little bit early because that gave her time to prepare. She was a bit nervous, glancing around at the random people that were at the nice café, and took a seat at a table in a secluded corner. _When my date shows up…how am I supposed to know who he is? I don’t even know what the man looks like. Not for the lack of trying to get Epiphany to send me a photo,_ she thought, with a glare down at her phone. She tossed it into her purse, and folded her hands on the table in front of her neatly. She wore a simply silky short sleeved cobalt button up blouse, and a pair of black skinny jeans with her knee high black stiletto boots. It wasn’t too casual and wasn’t too elegant, just a perfect mixture. 

She hadn’t done too much with her hair and makeup. She just pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail and just a touch of lip gloss. Brenda would always say how envious she was that Elizabeth could pull of any style if she really wanted to, and believe her, she had been through many styles as her time as a model. However, the more natural a look felt, the more she liked it. She never liked being caked in make up so much that it felt like she was wearing a mask. 

She casually looked around, and wondered if Sherlock was already here. She didn’t see anyone who looked like the detective, but he didn’t say he was good at blending it. He must be damned good if she could spot neither hide nor hair of him. There was only a pair of business men, a young couple making cooing noises at each other in between making out, an elderly woman who had a purse the size of Canada that was red and gaudy. _Maybe he wasn’t here yet,_ she thought, her stomach twisting at the thought. 

“Here you go, madam. One cinnamon tea.” 

A voice came from behind that Elizabeth assumed was the waiter because who else would bring tea to the table, and set it down in front of her. A look of bemusement fell over her face, and she looked up, saying, “Huh? I haven’t actually ordered ye…” And her voice died on her when she found herself staring up into a familiar set of eyes. 

“That’s fine. You were planning on ordering one of these. Isn’t that right?” The man asked, his lips shaped like a cupid’s bow curled up into a smirk. His eyes were deep pool of slate blue and his intense stare on her face made her cheek flush. His midnight hair had been cut short and neat, and his perfectly trimmed beard ran along his strong, proud jaw covering it. Hi 6’1” frame was draped in an expensive tailored suit that fit his body like a glove, and made out of fabric that looked like it was smooth as butter. 

“…you’re…” Elizabeth felt like the cat had her tongue. She could barely believe it. “You were at the art soirée in Paris. You bought my painting of the ocean sunset.” 

How could she not have noticed the fine specimen of masculinity like him? She hadn’t been the only one whose head been turned that night, but one of the few that had actually gotten to speak with him. She wished the conversation had been longer, but she had been swept away by the gallery owner and by the time she had gotten back, he had been gone. Him and his gorgeous broad shoulders. Did she mention he had broad shoulders? She really liked broad shoulders, and his hands! Hands with the long, powerful fingers. If someone had asked her to paint up her dream man, she was pretty sure it end up looking damn near close to the man in front of her. _Stop salivating like a starving dog presented with a bone,_ she scolded herself, and resisted the urge to fan her burning face. 

“Yes, I did. It sits in my office. I find myself looking at when I need to calm down after a stressful meeting. The way you captured the sunset on the ocean waters, it almost looks like a photograph, it’s so perfect,” he complimented her, his eyes crinkled around the edges when he smiled. 

“I…I can’t say I ever expected to see you again,” Elizabeth said, with a smile. What she wouldn’t give to be able to paint him. She’d have him sit on a terrace, staring out at some distance as she painted his regal profile. “What brings you to Port Charles?” 

“Interesting business ventures you could say,” he replied, deliberately vague. “You aren’t in the mood for cinnamon tea today?” 

“No, it’s not that. I just…you took me by surprise,” she admitted, with a slightly sheepish laugh. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and she watched him sit down on the other side of the table, holding his own cup of tea in his hand. She felt a slight hesitance build in her. She would enjoy talking to him—Mycroft, if she remembered his name correctly though she couldn’t put her thumb on his last name—about art and so much more, she knew this. However, she was expecting her blind date to be here soon, and well, her mysterious man was probably expecting a single lady sitting alone. 

“Is something wrong? You’re alone, aren’t you?” Mycroft asked, with his head tilted. He seemed to pick up on her hesitance. 

“Oh…no, um, I’m kind of meeting someone here today,” Elizabeth said, a note of regret in her voice. 

“Ah.” His eyes flickered with an epiphany. “A blind date then.” 

Elizabeth felt a jolt of surprise shoot down her spine. “How did you know?” 

Mycroft smiled. “I’ve been watching you since you crossed the street on your way here. You seemed too concerned with the time and surroundings for this to be a run-of-the-mill social occasion,” he explained, with an accent that was so delicious it should have been illegal. 

_Why do British men sound so hot?_ Elizabeth thought, faintly. There were handful of accents that sounded amazing, but the British one was at the top of the list for her personally. And then she felt bad because she shouldn’t be thinking about Mycroft or his accent when there was some guy who she was about to be on a date with. 

There was a slight twinkle in his eyes as if he read her thoughts, but he continued on with his analysis. “Based on the movement of your eyes as well as your behavior, you’re feeling anxious and tense. You’re stressed because you don’t know the person you’re here to meet. You even wish that you could escape…that you could get out of here. Isn’t that right?” 

His words were like a blow to her heart with how accurate they were. He was amazingly good at seeing through the brave front she put on, and seeing to the heart of her issue. He was as good as Sherlock with deduction, she would hazard a guess. At least, when it came to her that was. Who knows if Mycroft would be good at picking apart crime scenes or what not. 

“If you don’t want to meet this person, then you should just escape.” 

“Wha…what?” Elizabeth gawked. 

“Based on when you got here, I’d say that you’re supposed to be meeting this person at two o’clock, yes?” Mycroft said, with a patient smile. “You still have five minutes to make a hasty getaway if you so desired. You shouldn’t feel obligated to meet with someone you don’t even know if it’s this unappealing to you.” 

“Well…” Elizabeth hesitated. Oh, she wished she could just book it out of here. She didn’t really want to meet some stranger, but Epiphany was so hopeful that she would like this guy. And even Brenda said that Elizabeth needed to put herself out there. But wasn’t there a better way to do that without head diving into something blind? 

“You can still get out of this without having to meet this person. It will be as if it never happened,” Mycroft told her, his voice very compelling. It was like a low rumbled of thunder that caused the hair to stand back on the nape of a person’s neck as they inevitably waited for the storm to come rolling in. “Your life is yours…you get to make the decisions, not others.” 

Yes, she did. Elizabeth felt her resolve start to strengthen inside of her. As much as she appreciated her friends, this wasn’t the way she wanted to go back to reviving her love that had been pretty much DOA. She wanted to take her time, to build up her life after her modeling contract ended, and then finally settle down once all the hubbub about that came to an end. But she had to take her time, and do it her way if things were going to unfold right. 

“What are you going to do? This man may already be close by. If you need someone to leave the café with you, I’d be happy to help…” Mycroft let the offer hang there in the air between them, waiting for the cue from her. It was something she appreciated more than he knew. 

There was a pause, where Elizabeth lingered in indecision. 

“There’s no need to feel bad about it. After all, I’m the one who pushed you do it,” Mycroft said, with a shrug of his right shoulder. 

“No. You are right. I didn’t want to be pushed into this, but felt obligated to. My friends want me to be happy so they try to get me to come out of myself in areas of my life that I’ve neglected, but I don’t want to go into something blind. I want both my eyes open so I can see what I’m getting myself into,” Elizabeth said, with soft smile in his direction. “Besides, it’s my choice, remember? I am choosing to do this even if you are one who offered the solution.” 

As she started to get up out of her seat, Mycroft uncrosses and then re-crosses his legs in front of him, smiling and looking very relaxed. He watched her with rapt attention, as if committing everything about her to detail in this moment. “Still, I was able to learn something about how you think, so that’s good,” he said, a flash of pearly white teeth as his lips broadened into a deeper smile. 

Elizabeth froze, and narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Mycroft let out a low chuckle. “Three minutes left until it’s two…I’d say it’s just about time,” he stated, glancing down at his watch and completely avoiding her question. He lifted his gaze, motioning for her to sit back down with eyes. 

Baffled, Elizabeth found herself doing just that. She wanted to know what was going on, like a curious cat, and Mycroft’s behavior called for some answers. 

“I apologize for deceiving you,” he said, with an apologetic look. “The person you’re meeting here for your blind date is none other than me.” 

Elizabeth felt her entire world tilt, and she could hardly believe her ears. _Did he just say…? He can’t really…? Oh, why didn’t I see it before? A man I just happened to meet at the soiree, one that Epiphany had introduced me to shows up at the café where I am meeting my blind date? Could I get any more dense?_ She mentally scolded herself for not seeing it before. Talk about a whole new meaning to the term “blind date”. Her libido that had been standing at attention the second he had shown up decided that Epiphany needed to be sent a wonderful basket full of the best sweets and goodies that money could buy for setting her up with this man out of all men. Suddenly, Elizabeth had a thought. She stared at Mycroft for a moment—a long, hard moment—and the more she looked at him the more she could see the subtle similarities to a certain blue eyed, perceptive consulting detective. “Mycroft, forgive me, but your last name escapes me…” Elizabeth said, slowly. “I know Epiphany told me it when we were at the soiree, but she is terrible with last names. She has known me for years and still introduces me as Elizabeth Webster.” 

“Ah, forgive me. My name is Mycroft Holmes, and it is a pleasure to remake your acquaintance,” he said, with a sly sort of smile as if he knew her train of thought. 

“Holmes? Any relation to Sherlock Holmes?” She asked, her eyes flickered around the café with a hint of uncertainty. 

“My little brother,” Mycroft sighed, his left eyebrow ticked upward. “As embarrassed as I am to admit such.” 

“Oh, dear,” Elizabeth whispered. She had seen the similarities in looks, but there was more. The way they were both so perceptive and even the way they spoke were alike, and yet at the same time so different. Her stomach fluttered nervously, because she literally hired Sherlock to investigate his own brother without knowing it. She could only be imagining the shock that Sherlock was going through right now. “That explains so much.” 

“You seem like you aren’t sure how to react right now. Actually, no,” he commented, his keen and sharp icy blue eyes swept across her features. “It’s more like you are confused.” 

“Uh, well, you’re not wrong. It’s just a lot to wrap my head around,” Elizabeth chuckled, brushing her hair out of her face and looking over at him. “My friend sets me up with the handsome stranger from a gala and now…” She bit her lower lip, unsure if she should confess that she was paying his brother to spy on him even if it was an honest mistake. “I’m just trying to process it.” 

His lips curled into a smirk so sly and delicious it should be made illegal. His eyes grew hooded, and he regarded her with a hint of mischief in his blue pools. “I see. Well then, since you are in such a confused state it would be only fair for me to clarify and explain what is going on,” Mycroft stated, with a deep chuckle that did things to Elizabeth’s insides. 

Her eyes widened, a fraction. “You mean there is more than what is going than a blind date?” 

“There is. I told your friend Epiphany this when I requested this blind date with you, but I view this as an opportunity to establish a serious relationship with you, potentially leading to marriage,” Mycroft told her, as if he were merely speaking about the weather outside. 

Elizabeth felt her mouth drop open slightly. “Marriage?!” 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END OF CHAPTER!  
> (I have changed the cast up a bit to fit the “Guard Me, Sherlock” version of the character a tiny bit. The writers of the game though have Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock down pat, so I couldn’t imagine another actor in the role. I changed the others because while I love the many actors who have played those roles, none of them seem to fit the characters in the game so I felt it necessary to change the portrayers. Feel free though to choose your own fancast, this is just who I have in mind when I write.)  
> Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock Holmes  
> Richard Armitage as Mycroft Holmes  
> Max Brown as John Waston  
> Daniel Craig as Greg Lestrade
> 
> AUTHOR’S NOTES:
> 
> 1.) This is NOT a love triangle. I will do Sherlock and John versions with Elizabeth eventually, so there isn’t no love triangle, but that doesn’t mean more than one person won’t have unrequited feelings for certain people.  
> 2.) Courtney’s Issues: Like I said in the author’s note in the beginning, I hate falling into the jealous trope for women characters. So I am trying to give depth to why Courtney is the way she is, and as you can tell her mother really screwed her up as a child. While Courtney won’t be a likeable character, I do hope that the reader will have sympathy for her even while not liking the actions she has taken. I will go more in depth with Carly and Gia, but I think Gia will probably be the only one that the readers’ opinion will turn around on completely.  
> 3.) Why is Emily OOC? Uh, no, I don’t believe she is. Emily circa 2001-03 was not a good friend really to Elizabeth. Not saying Elizabeth perfect, but fact remains that I really didn’t care for Emily during this time. Now the fanfic is set in 2008, but I believe Emily and Elizabeth grew out of who they were during the 01-03 period, and did so together. Since Elizabeth didn’t stick around, she didn’t have the good friendship with Emily and thus, Emily didn’t have the good influence to grow beyond her childish behavior. (Don’t quote me on the timeline here, I haven’t watched early GH aside from Liason clips in a long time so my memory is a bit murky.)  
> 4.) Was Elizabeth treated like an extension of Lucky? During 2000-01 period, yes! Every word out of anyone’s mouth was ‘poor Lucky’ or how Liz had to try for him, ignoring the fact that she obviously was in love with Jason, but stayed with Lucky out of obligation. She also hated modeling and didn’t want to do it. She hated being dolled up, but stayed because it was Lucky’s dream to be a photographer, and no matter what, she was always bullied back into doing it made to feel guilty if she wasn’t sacrificing her sense of self at the altar of Lucky. Lucky himself did not love Elizabeth at this time, and also was staying with her out of obligation. That being said, the writers had everyone go from treating Liz like her own person to Lucky’s girlfriend and all her life had to be about Lucky, except with Jason. Jason treated Elizabeth like her own person, and if Steve Burton hadn’t left again I believe GH would have given Liason a true, decent shot without a lie, or triangle, or anything else coming in between them.  
> 5.) Is Elizabeth being too cruel? I don’t believe so. Imagine having the people you loved and cherished turn their back on you because you did something they didn’t like. You made a choice—a simple choice about a job—and they are poof, gone from your life and treating you like a pariah. Which is kind of cannon to how the Spencers and Em and Nic went MIA out of Elizabeth’s life really after the not-wedding to Lucky, so it’s no OOC on their part to me. As for Elizabeth’s behavior, she doesn’t want to come off as mean or bitchy. She doesn’t put that much thought into it, but it is frustrating after so many years to have people who you once counted on and betrayed you to walk up to you and try to dictate your life to fit their ideals. She refuses to live life to others specifications, and lives for herself. Her freedom isn’t a price she is willing to pay for love.  
> 6.) Mycroft’s Version! As you all know these stories are inspired from “Guard Me, Sherlock”. An interactive romance novella kind of app, and even good portions of the dialogue are straight from the game with a bit of editing (DISCLAIMER I DON’T OWN GUARD ME SHERLOCK). Mycroft’s story to me was my favorite to pair with Elizabeth Webber. There was something about the dynamic to it that appealed to me. Not that John, or Sherlock’s weren’t good (and I am writing those version paired with Elizabeth, too), but I like how Elizabeth—who has often had her choices taken away—is given choice constantly by Mycroft. Like when they first meet at the restaurant on the blind date, he waits and lets her make her choice. He allows her that control, and allows her to know that her choice is valued no matter what. I love that.


End file.
